one night while in mexico...

Sometimes my mind is so saturated with the moisture of thousands of thoughts that all I care to do is sit on the darkened shore and watch the waves communicate with the moon. Perhaps the sloshing water in my mind will join the conversation and let me be.
It is 10:55 pm, and I find myself so weighed down that all I want to do is run. Maybe skipping would be better. That at least incorporates some sort of joy. But I don’t feel like skipping. Or running. I just want my mind to lie down on its well-worn bed and sleep.
I decide to create a piano lounge inside my head by listening to the smooth, well-played soul of Vince Guaraldi as I fall into my own world.
Where would I rather be right now? The obvious answer to that question is…well…anywhere.
I would sell my book collection for a pair of wings. I would go get lost in foreign cities. That always produces such a feeling of romanticism inside my heart. I could sit at a coffee shop. Write. Read. Sip my coffee. Talk to strangers. Where are you from? That always turns into an adventure when in a foreign city: Well, originally I am from Brazil. When I was eight, my parents moved to the United States. At the young age of twelve, I went away to boarding school in Europe. After school I moved to New York City for three years. Well, I got bored with New York. Then I decided to move here and learn the language. You don’t say? That question alone seems to answer every other question on the list. Do you have any brothers and sisters? What is your favorite episode of Andy Griffith? Do you like to fly? What about cloud formations, do you enjoy analyzing those? Ok, so maybe not every question, but that initial where-are-you-from conversation seems to mix a conglomeration of colors and gives permission to keep painting. Because, you see, once the painting is finished, you are fulfilled. From there you can either contemplate the painting or create another.
If I had someone beside me right now, I think I would like to have an exchange of random thoughts. It would go something like this:
-so i got a paper cut today
-no way….a bad one?
-yeah, man. it could probably use some stitches.
::pause::
-so you know how foreign cities make you feel all romantic and stuff?
-yeah, man.
-what does that mean?
-what?
-romantic.
-i think romantic means totally other than what you already possess.
-oh. interesting.
::pause::
-i think that if i could rename myself, i would call myself sophia.
-that’s interesting.
-it’s pretty romantic, right?
-yeah, man. romantic.
::pause::
-i like to use big words a lot.
-like what?
-like accompaniment.
::pause::
-do you like to read?
-no, i fall asleep.
-oh. well, i do. i like to get lost in another world.
I think what I long for most while sitting on this desolate beach of my mind is a conversation. It would be a great accompaniment. I haven’t been able to involve my heart in much lately. My soul hasn’t been able to mingle with another. Because of this, it is easily worn out. That’s why the lake in my head has just stolen all my energy…my poor soul can’t seem to take anything. I’m just so worn out…I can’t even fly right now. And now I don’t even have any books to read. I sold them all so that I could fly. I guess I’m stuck here right now.
Moral of the story: let your soul mingle with another…